You see them on TV, on the networks… everywhere, in fact, these advertisements which encourage people to ask for help when needed.

I am a mother of two young people with mental health problems and I asked for help. However, I am unfortunately caught in the maze of the system, like Asterix during his 12 labors… The A-38 pass, you say?

Son, 16, high-functioning autism. Son also has ADHD with impulsiveness. At the moment, we have the services of the Center for Rehabilitation in Intellectual Disability (CRDI) and the local community service center (CLSC). He has a child psychiatrist and a psychologist; he sees the latter every week at the Rivière-des-Prairies hospital.

Number of holes in the walls, broken objects: enough to make the house look bad. Number of times in a week son says he’s sad and depressed: enough to make mom’s heart bleed.

Fiston tells the school psychoeducator that he wakes up at night with suicidal thoughts. That he is afraid to take the kitchen knives and take action. So I ask the psychologist that the child psychiatrist be present at the son’s next appointment. During his appointment, son fears being rehospitalized and says that his suicide threats are only a cry for help, that he does not want to die. He therefore returned home with instructions to reread his document on cognitive distortions. Me, I’m crying with rage. Son is impulsive and angry. On the stroke of emotion, he often loses control. If he pulls off his suicide, at least I can sleep soundly…because I asked for help.

18-year-old girl has Attention Deficit Disorder (ADD). Fillette had previously been diagnosed with generalized anxiety disorder and attachment disorder. We have been in and out of the system with little girl since she was about 10 years old. With her, several medication trials for anxiety, depression… We have been asking to investigate for a borderline personality disorder for several years, without success.

Fillette has episodes where she is doing well (too well) and episodes where she is doing (very) badly. At the moment, it’s going badly, but unlike usual, it’s not going away. So we went to the emergency clinic and were referred to a mental health navigator who said the girl was in severe depression. Two months have passed since the first date. I called the clinic three times, because there was no more news from the nurse and the little girl’s condition was deteriorating: she no longer washed, brushed her hair or brushed her teeth and she slept all day. daytime. As I write these words, you are due to see your doctor in just over two weeks.

After discussing the girl’s case with the son’s social worker, the girl received an assessment call from the CLSC. She is told she will have access to a psychiatrist in just over 11 months. For a psychologist, it is MUCH shorter, he is told… around five to six months.

Meanwhile, I watch the little girl wasting away visibly and I tell myself that if we escape her, I will at least be able to sleep soundly… because I asked for help.